Eternal Heat (Firework Girls #3) (20 page)

Chapter 21

 

A chill drops through my heart. I face the audience, bow to their standing ovation, and resist the urge to check the wings. Surely he’ll be there. Surely he only moved a bit. I’ll see him when I get back there.

The audience is still clapping. I hold out one arm gracefully, bow again in gratitude, and make my way to the wings.

When I get back stage, he’s nowhere to be seen. I glance across the stage to see if he’s on the other side, but he’s not there either.

Ignoring my pounding heart, I start looking for him. By the time I confirm he’s nowhere in the backstage area, my panic increases and my mind begins to race. What happened to him? I consider, and reject, a series of possibilities. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom. But during my performance? Maybe he got a call? But why the hell would he answer a call then? Besides, I saw him silence his phone when we got here. Maybe he started to feel sick?

I exit into the rear hallway and start checking rooms. Most are locked, but the ones that aren’t are either empty or holding performers who aren’t him. Gathering my wits about me, I find my coat and pull my phone out of the inner pocket.

There are a few good-luck texts from the Firework Girls and my parents, but nothing from him. No missed calls. I don’t bother texting, but call instead. It goes straight to voicemail.

I send a text instead:
Hey babe. Where’d you go?

I take a deep breath and try to calm down my heart. He’s here somewhere. He wouldn’t just disappear.

I wrap my arms around myself, pushing away the memory of the last time he suddenly disappeared on me.

He’s here.

I find the men’s room and wait outside. After fifteen minutes go by, I stop the next man about to go in and rather pitifully ask him to see if Erik’s in there. When he confirms what I already knew, I go back to my coat. I force myself to put away my phone—even though I’ve been compulsively checking it—and go back to the wings.

Maybe he’s back now anyway. Maybe I missed him before somehow. But he’s still not there and the last performer has had her say. The stage hands direct us onto the stage so we can receive the results. As instructed earlier, we all line up.

All but one.

The emcee is in front, holding a thick, cream card that I assume tells him who won. I glance to both sides of the stage, hoping to see Erik in the wings.

Nothing.

God, what on earth?

A cold chill drops through me. Something’s wrong. Erik wouldn’t miss this unless... unless...

The words of our parents hit me full force. His mom was worried he couldn’t handle this kind of competition in his personal life. Hell, even my dad has been worried about the same thing. I knew before Erik even came back into my life that moments just like this can be death to relationships. I’ve known it all along. Was I kidding myself that we could be the exception?

The audience bursts into applause and I look out in surprise. The emcee is smiling at me. The short woman next to me elbows me softly. “Go on,” she says.

My brain catches up to me. My name was called, but for what? Did I place? Did I win?

As I move forward, a woman comes from the wings—still no Erik on that side—and presents me with a bouquet of roses and a medallion, which she puts around my neck.

My god, I think I just won the whole thing. And Erik is still nowhere to be seen.

I’m smiling, and there’s this little underneath part of me that’s thrilled, but the rest of me is reeling. Somehow I manage to get through it and we all exit the stage and that’s that. The auditorium is filled with the low rumbling of an audience that’s just been dismissed.

I receive congratulations from my fellow performers, still wearing the mask of a smile on my face.

The full realization of his absence sinks into me. Indignation starts to bloom. Did Erik just leave me? Again? Fucking, just like that? What excuse could he possibly have for this?

But then I remember thinking once before that there was no excuse for what he’d done. Only there
had
been an excuse.

I take a deep breath and straighten, free from the well-wishers at last, and head for my coat. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what’s happened. But I’ve decided to believe in him. I trust him.

I start checking with the stage hands and organizers to see if they know anything. I call the hotel to see if he’s there, but turn up empty. I exit the building and start checking the grounds. I go past the reflection pool and head toward the main plaza. Being nighttime, it looks different than the last time I was here, four months ago with my Firework Girls.

Erik was on my mind even then.

Keeping my fear at bay, I go all the way to Columbia Avenue, looking around for him.

He’s here. He’s somewhere. He hasn’t abandoned me.

I keep telling myself that, determined to believe it. And, strangely, I do. Maybe I’m a fool, but now that I’ve decided to trust him, I’m less fearful for myself and more fearful for him. What if something horrible happened?

I still can’t imagine what. What horrible thing could have happened in the wings of Lincoln Center?

But I know there has to be an explanation. I just need to find him.

Turning up empty in the plaza, I go back to the reflecting pool. I just need to stay put. For all I know, he’s looking for me too and we keep missing each other.

I check my phone again. Nothing. I sigh in frustration and put it away. Maybe his phone is dead. I don’t know.

I should reasonably wait by the entrance to Lincoln Center, but patrons are still slowly exiting the building and I’m too easily recognized. I’ve tucked the medallion into my bag but I’m still holding the bouquet of roses.

I decide to keep an eye on the building from a distance. I’d rather wait and worry in private.

I cross to the other side of the pool and approach the base of Illumination Lawn. I climb to the top, just as I did last summer, and when I get to the rail at the back, I take in the massive white building that is Juilliard. The lights within glow. It’s quite lovely. But the building doesn’t have that other-worldly aura it used to.

It used to represent this out-of-reach dream. It used to mean I wasn’t good enough, not really. But tonight I just proved there’s more than one path to success, and Juilliard doesn’t own it.

But Juilliard also represented Erik. It still does.

And that’s what finally gets my tears flowing. I can’t stop them. I’m terrified. I’m terrified for him and for me and for us.

But I won’t stop believing. He’s somewhere. He’ll come to me. He’s somewhere.

I scan the sidewalk below and all along Juilliard. I consider going across the street to see if he’s there, but if he’s looking for me too, it’ll be at Lincoln Center. I have to stay put.

Just before I turn back so I can check the crowd coming out of Lincoln Center again, I hear his voice from far away, calling me: “Ashley!”

My heart leaps into my throat and I spin, my eyes searching frantically. I hear him again—this time a little closer—“Ashley!” I see him! He’s running across the plaza, coming from Lincoln Center.

Heart pounding, I start running down the slope of the lawn, the cool air hitting he tears on my cheeks.

When we reach each other, I drop the flowers and he takes me into his arms, lifting me off my feet and clinging to me.

“Where have you been?” he asks. His voice is muffled in my neck.

“Me? Where have
you
been? I’ve been looking all over for you!”

He sets me down and we look at each other. He looks pale and worn and I instantly know something horrible
did
happen. He’s looking at me with concern.

“I’m sorry honey,” he says, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes glitter and he smiles at me through the weight of whatever’s happened. “You won. God, I’m so proud of you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Now I’m more confused than ever. “How do you even know that? Erik, what’s happened?”

His smile drops and he takes a shaky breath. “My mom’s in surgery.”

“What?!”

“She was having a hard time breathing. Well, harder than usual. Apparently her lungs were filling with fluid. They almost lost her in the ambulance.”

My head’s spinning not only from what he’s saying, but from wondering how he knows any of this.

“She’s in surgery now. Just before my phone died, I gave Margie your number to call when Mom gets out. Did she call you yet?”

I shake my head, still trying to get a handle on everything. “Who’s Margie?”

“Mom’s neighbor. She checks in on her from time to time. She found mom on the floor, trying to get to her phone to call 911. Once she called 911 with mom’s phone, she texted me with hers. It came in when I was recording you, otherwise who knows when I would’ve seen it. I saw it was an emergency and went into the hall to call. The paramedics weren’t even there yet. I was listening as Margie talked to 911, and then once they got there she kept me up on what was going on.”

“My god. Is she going to be okay?”

He nods and shrugs wearily. “I think so. Before she went in, the doctor told Margie she should come out of it all right.”

I shake my head. What timing, with us clear across the country and our flights not for a couple more days. “Are we flying back early?” I ask.

Now it was his turn for tears to come to his eyes.

“Oh, honey,” I whisper. Poor guy. It’s been a rough night for him, too.

He blinks them back. “Yes, I’d like to. I was hoping you’d be all right with that.”

“Of course.”

I hug him and we hang onto each other tightly. “God, we must have kept missing each other,” I say. “I thought—”

But I don’t say what I thought.

He pulls back, a look of dawning on his face. “You thought I left you?”

“Just... for a moment,” I say helplessly, shrugging. “I kind of thought about before, you know?”

He looks confused. “But... for what reason? Why would I leave?”

“Well...” I hesitate, but realize I need to just come out with it. Maybe I should have a long time ago. “Because we’re competing against each other, and maybe that’s more than you want in a relationship. You wouldn’t be the first musician who felt that way.”

He sighs, and I instantly see I haven’t been imagining his unease since I won the second round.

“Look,” he begins, “I know I’ve been licking my wounds a bit. I mean, yeah, I’m not crazy about losing to
anyone
. But that’s not about you, sweetheart. You can understand that, can’t you?”

I sigh. “Well, yeah. I didn’t handle things too well when you beat me in the fall.”

He grins sheepishly.

“But, is this going to come between us eventually?” I ask.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. “If I’m going to lose to anyone, I’d rather it be you. Yeah, there’s that selfish part of me that hates to lose, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t hope I can beat you in some other competition someday.” I can’t help but smile. “Wouldn’t you feel the same way?”

God, I would.

“But I’m also so proud of you and so fucking
crazy
in love with your music.”

His words bounce around in my heart in recognition. Does
he
really feel that way about me and
my
music?

“God, honey, when you play like that you make me fall in love with you all over again.”

I smile broadly.

“Does that make sense?” he asks.

The giddiness in my heart breaks loose and I let out a little laugh. “I’ve felt that way about you for years.”

He smiles. “Really?”

“I don’t know how I feel about it being a new experience for
you
,” I tease.

He smiles and kisses me then, embracing me firmly. I kiss him back and we hold onto each other with relief.

I pull back and put my hand on his cheek.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go home.”

 

Chapter 22

 

Two months later, Erik’s mom is back at home and mostly recovered from her surgery. After seeing how Erik’s handled the results of the Hess Competition, she’s softened her approach towards me and has been more supportive in general. We’ve even discovered we have something in common: a mutual love of Nutter Butters. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Meanwhile, our careers have taken a turn no one could have anticipated, thanks to the meddling of Sam and Jack.

I had forgotten all about the video Sam took of Erik and me playing together at the Rivers Paradise Resort, but she didn’t forget. After a bit of plotting and scheming, Sam and Jack convinced Chloe and Grayson to post the video to their YouTube channel. Five days and half a million hits later, they let us in on the secret.

Chloe was afraid we’d be mad, but after seeing so many views along with comments like “captivating” and “I couldn’t look away,” why would we be? In fact, at that point, Erik and I started to see a vision of something new.

Grayson and Chloe helped us start a channel of our own, and he helped us get some recording equipment set up so we could make more videos of our collaborations. We’ve posted clips of us playing individually, too. Our new videos have even more hits than the first, which suits me fine since the sound-quality of Sam’s “perfectly fine” phone video kind of sucked.

In the avalanche of emails we’ve received since then, we’ve secured one of the best managers in the industry and he’s currently arranging a ten-stop national tour that will culminate at none other than Lincoln Center.

But for now, Erik and I are enjoying a moment of solitude and normalcy. We’re walking along our old stretch of the Greenbelt, hand in hand. He’s come home with me to Boise and has managed to reconcile with my parents. Before we left the house, my dad even pulled me aside and told me how nice it is to have Erik be part of the family again.

We approach my favorite bridge and draw to a stop at the top. The river dances along below, and the trees rustle lightly as the spring breeze plays through. We lean on the rail, arms touching elbow to shoulder. I can’t help but smile.

I look over at him, the boy I loved who grew into the man I love even more. I nudge him slightly with my hip. He smiles, leans in, and kisses me oh so gently. My heart flutters around in my chest. We pull apart slightly, looking at one another and staying close. What a journey it’s been with Erik so far.

Unless I’m wrong, I have a feeling we’ve only just begun.

 

 

The End

 

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